Pieces
by LightRay
Summary: A father killed, a child gone. Who knows the reason why?
1. Default Chapter

A knot of fear had been forming in Thomas Parry's stomach ever since he'd gotten off at the bus stop. He hated getting back this late, it was dark and the gangs that tended to stay quiet in the daytime were beginning to move. His grip tightening on the strap of his bag he wished he hadn't had to bring all this home with him. There were over at thousand dollars worth of drugs in his pocket alone, if anyone thought to stop him he was dead. Jessica's voice ran through his head 'stay calm and nothing bad will happen'. Although he didn't believe a word of it the thought of her soft voice soothed him enough to stop him from breaking into a run and drawing excess attention to himself. Still it wasn't until he'd unlocked his front door and was in the warm light of the kitchen, able to see Davy sitting safely at the table and smell pies cooking in the oven, that the knot began to undo. "Hey buddy," he said to Davy as he sat down on the seat next to him. Davy looked up and fixed his bright green eyes blankly on him for a moment before he turned back to his jigsaw puzzle. "I got you a present," Thomas continued putting his bag onto the table, "well its not really a present. It's from the paper. Here," he took a video case out of his bag, "Hamster Huey and the Glooey Koblie. New show on FOX, I'm reviewing it for Friday's edition. Want to watch it after dinner?" Davy didn't look away from his puzzle. "Bag off the table," Jessica came in from the other room, her left leg dragging slightly as she made her way over to the oven, "I'm starving. Davy wanted to wait for you before we had dinner." Thomas looked again at his son, still bent over the puzzle his dark hair giving no indication of the brain that was enclosed within, "he told you that?" "Well no," she placed a plate in front of him, "but I could tell. Cut that up for him would you?" Thomas began to cut the pie into pieces as Jessica placed the other two plates onto the table. "I got you something." "Hamster Huey and the Glooey Koblie," Jessica sat down and squirted tomato sauce on the pie Thomas had cut up, "I heard." "I think you'll like it," Thomas put his hand into his jacket pocket and put three bags full of drugs onto the table before finding the packet he was looking for. "Davy leave the puzzle for a minute, eat your dinner," Jessica said picking up the packet with some interest, "Honey I don't think he needs sleeping tablets." "They're for you." Jessica looked up at him sharply. "We both know you need it." "Thomas, we can't afford." "Its okay. I fixed it so its on our insurance, " Jessica's face still looked unsure so he continued, "I know what we agreed Jess but god, you need to at least sleep. This is powerful, it'll really knock you out." Jessica put the packet back on the table with the other tablets, "Davy I said eat your dinner," she gave Thomas a small smile, "you can't fuss. You know that." Thomas forced a smile at her. He often wondered if she understood that this whole thing was killing him as much as it was her. "Take it now. I'll put Davy to bed." "What about Hamster Huey?" she asked, pushing a tablet out regardless. "I'll save it for tomorrow. Jessica smiled, looking for a moment as beautiful as she had in college before she looked across to her son, "Davy, look at mummy." There was a knock on the door as Davy fixed his glance on his mother. "Stop doing that. Time to eat." "Are we expecting anyone?" Thomas asked, glancing at the door. "No," Jessica went to stand, a grimace crossing her face. "Sit down. I'll do it. You feed him." Thomas crossed the room and glanced through the peephole, "you better put those away," he said looking back to the bags of drugs on the table. Jessica put the forkful of food back onto the plate and reached for the bags. Her hands missed them by a couple of centimetres. Steeping back to the table Thomas picked up the bags and shoved them back into his jacket pocket, "you okay?" "No," Jessica said, her eyes drifting closed, "wow. Those are strong." "They shouldn't be that." The knock on the door was sharper and more urgent this time. "I'm coming," Thomas called out, "I'll just let him and then we'll put you to bed okay." In response Jessica put her head down on the table. While Davy went back to his puzzle, Thomas crossed to the door, pulled the chain off and opened it. "Hey. Come on in." The man stepped in slowly and immediately walked across to Jessica. He bent over her, his head close that he could have felt her breath on his face. "How's she feeling?" "Ah you know Jess," Thomas said pulling Davy's plate to him and putting a forkful of food into his mouth, "I'm just about to put her to bed." "Don't bother," the man said, he'd moved so his voice was now coming from directly behind Thomas, "I'll do it." Thomas was just about to protest when he felt the nuzzle of a gun pressed in against the back of his neck. His eyes fixed on his son sitting in front of him, doing his puzzle as though there was no one else in the room. "Davy." he began, his voice shaking. He never got any further before the gun went off. 


	2. Chapter 2

As Eames pulled the SUV into the street she wondered if they'd gotten the right address. Although no crime scene is ever quiet, she hadn't expected this. An ambulance and six or seven police cars were already parked outside the apartment building. "Bit of overkill isn't it?" she commented as they got out of the car. "Might not all be for us," Goren said, glancing around the crowd for a familiar face. It wasn't until they got near the ambulance that they found one. A sergeant standing on the ground behind the ambulance, being spoken to in a manner that suggested he was being warned off before having the ambulance doors shut in his face. As the sergeant walked away Goren raised a hand to get his attention. "Ah, wondering when you two would get her," the sergeant said as he drew even with them, "I tell you something this ones going to drag on for ever. I'm glad that it's you lot that have to deal with it." "Thanks," Eames said blandly. Seemed to her most police thought the purpose of the major crime squad was to deal with the ones that dragged on forever. "Well we're sending a search part out for the kid," the sergeant said, as though this was the best anyone could offer, "I have to find a photo for them. Didn't fancy sending the mother back in there." "What kid?" Goren asked. "We were told it was a murder," Eames added in response to the sergeant's look of surprise, "mid-twenties male. Possibly drug related." The sergeant nodded, "Thomas Parry. Shot sometime last night. His mother found him this morning," he indicated to the bags of drugs that were being photographed, "those were found in his jacket pocket. His girlfriend was found in the bedroom drugged up to her eyeballs. Their son's missing. We don't know if it's a kidnapping or if he's just run off," he finished his description as they walked into the apartment and gestured to where a crime scene photographer was working, "body's over there. I have to find this photo." "No sign of a struggle," Goren said looking around the apartment as they walked over to the body. Eames nodded and stopped where Thomas Parry's body was sitting, slouched at the table. The crime scene photographer looked up as they approached and moved a little out of the way to allow them to get a clear look. On having a clear view of the body, Eames had an involuntary uptake of breath followed almost immediately by a gag reflex. She'd seen a lot of murders in her time but this was one of the most gruesome. The back of his skull had been torn away by the bullet exposing a large section of his brain, much of which had then been blown away by a second shot. Whoever had killed him probably hadn't understood the effect a gun at close range can have but that didn't make the sight of Thomas Parry's mutilated skull any easier to take in. She looked over to Goren to see if he was having the same reaction but Goren didn't even seem to have registered it. Maybe he hadn't even looked properly at the body, his interest seemed to focus more on the kitchen. "Two untouched meals," he said when he noticed Eames looking at him. He touched the fork lying close to Thomas Parry's outstretched hand, "he was probably feeding the son. This was his meal," he indicated to a plate next to the body, "which means that was hers," he gestured to another plate, "have you taken shots of this?" "No," the photographer said. "Take some. I want a good view of the splatter," he picked up the box of sleeping tablets with gloved hands and read the back of it before carefully placing it back down. "Something wrong?" Eames asked. Goren looked at her for a moment without answering before he turned to the crie scene photographer, "have you done the bedroom?" "Just a couple of shots of the bed." "Right," Goren said before catching sight of the sergeant coming out of a room with a photograph in his hand. "Hope you don't mind Goren," the sergeant said, "but I have to get this out there." "Can I see?" Goren asked extending a hand. The sergeant handed him the photo that Goren looked at briefly before passing it to Eames. Eames glanced at it, a little boy dressed in a Blues Clues shirt with dark unkempt hair. Cute in the way all children are but nothing exceptional apart from startling green eyes and what appeared to be a small white birthmark. He was going to be hard to find. "How old is he?" she asked. "Five. But he's autistic the poor little tyke, who knows how well he can look after himself," the sergeant took the photo back off Eames, "best get this out. If he's just wandering the streets we've got to find him fast and we don't even have a description of what he wearing." "Mum still well out of it then?" Goren asked, looking at a black box that appeared to be a pager. "Yeah. We've got someone waiting at the hospital. We'll let you know when she comes round.  
  
"I don't know what you're wasting time on me for?" Marcia Parry was in her mid fifties, an elegantly dressed woman who rested one jewelled hand against her Lexus as though she was afraid it was going to disappear if she lost contact with it, "shouldn't you be looking for my grandson." "There are people on that," Eames assured her, "we just want to ask you a few questions." "I've already told the other policemen," Marcia said, her eyes flickering from one detective to the other, "they wrote it all down. Even checked my hand for gunpowder as though I killed Thomas." "That's just procedure," Eames said. "Well I hope they checked that little harlots as well, that's all." "The harlot?" Goren looked through his notes, "Jessica, right?" Marcia nodded. "They been together long." "Six years," Marcia said, her tone assuring them that this relationship had been his death sentence, "they met in college. She'd gotten herself pregnant within three months. Ruined Thomas's life. He was so bright then and now." her voice cracked slightly, "they told me they found drugs on him." "Did you know he was involved in drugs?" "If I'd known I would have stopped it." "What about Jessica?" Eames asked, "you ever suspect she was involved." "No," Marcia sounded slightly disappointed that she had never thought of it, "she looks like one though. I always just thought it was because she was sick." "Sick?" "Oh some disease. I forget what it's called. Davy has it too. She always played Thomas with it; whenever she wanted something she'd say she was sick. You could never tell Thomas that though. Would never hear a word against her."  
  
"Got any theories?" Deakin asked almost the moment that Goren and Eames had walked through the door. "A couple," Goren said sitting down in the chair near the window. "Do you think it was a kidnapping?" Goren shrugged. "Okay," Deakin said pouring himself a cup of coffee, "here's the current theory. Rival drug dealer drugs the mother, tries to kidnap the boy, father interrupts them so they shoot him and take the kid." "No," Eames said, "its too normal for that. No sign of a struggle, shot in the back of the head over his dinner. One of them let him in, didn't take their son out of the room. They must have trusted him. Which doesn't rule out drugs but." "It doesn't fit," Deakin agreed, "okay not drug related. Not robbery. Any other ideas?" Eames shook her head, "family feud or an affair maybe. I want to talk to her." "Goren?" Goren answered without looking away from the window, "I don't know." "You don't know?" Before Goren had a chance to explain there was a knock at the door and another detective entered. "Eames. Hospital rang for you. She's conscious." 


End file.
